Ever After
by EleanorKate
Summary: Nonnatus receives a shock and in its own style, rallies around its friends as best it can.
1. Chapter 1

"Sister?"

"Sister?!"

Cynthia was trying to keep her voice low so not as to disturb or be uncouth, but Sister Julienne was far too many steps ahead of her, turning from the Chapel corridor into the garden and around the corner the nurse had lost sight of her in her search that had scoured Nonnatus for some moments.

"Sister?!" Cynthia breathed as she turned around the brick facing, catching up with Sister Julienne after her swift departure earlier from the sitting room where she had left the visitors. The Sister had, however, already heard that she was being called and had turned back up the garden steps and into the hallway, an expectant look on her face but tempered with the knowledge that the Nurse was creating a racket behind her.

"I do believe, Nurse, I have told each and every one of you that it is simply not the case that we run around Nonnatus?" Sister Julienne scolded, knowing underneath it all that each and every girl respected these rooms and corridors and it was certainly not an act of disrespect in her reasoning for the half walk half run. She could see the Nurse was pink cheeked.

"You did Sister" Cynthia replied slowing her breathing down, urgency still bubbling in her stomach. "But, Inspector Barton is here and he wants to see you right now". Cynthia saw the Sister pause before she spoke.

"The Inspector?" Sister Julienne responded, shock evident in her voice with her forehead creasing. She had not seen Cyril Barton in weeks, perhaps even months, and it was a rare event he ever left his comfortable office on the top floor of the Police Station. For him to appear suddenly at Nonnatus was an entirely different prospect.

"Yes Sister", Cynthia carried on as they turned around. "He and Sergeant Graves have just arrived and want to speak to you".

The news of _two_ senior Police Officers alarmed her even more. "Did they say why they needed to see me?" Sister Julienne asked, wondering - hopefully - perhaps if there was to be an event or something they needed Nonnatus' help within the community or whether, on the hand, it was news they would not savour. If it was something of a community nature it was usually one or two of the Constables would be sent around on their beat.

"No Sister. Only that they needed to speak to you most urgently and I was to find you regardless of where you were". Cynthia was struggling to keep up the pace that the Sister was walking, feeling her worry emanate at finding the two officers at the door, sombre looks on their faces and the speed at which she was pressed to find Sister Julienne.

The Sister slowed slightly as her thoughts ticked over in her mind. "Is Sister Evangelina still here?"

"No" Cynthia replied, fair hair bouncing as she shook her head. "She is with Chummy and Sister Bernadette on the home visits down by the docks".

Sister Julienne nodded as they continued to walk. Yes, she remembered that now; sending all three off on that frankly unenviable task this morning wishing she could have added perhaps Nurse Franklin but she could not leave the clinic to Nurse Lee alone. Sister Bernadette would have been her next port of call to accompany her if the worry on the Nurse's face was anything to go by but she now had little choice.

"Very well" Sister Julienne concluded, stopping dead as they entered the kitchen, seeing the two officers standing in the sitting room before them. "Will you join me whilst I speak to them Nurse? It is most unusual and when unusual things occur, you cannot be entirely sure that good tidings come with them too".

"Of course Sister", Cynthia replied following her wondering what was to come. No, she thought, as the two officers turned, still wearing those solemn looks; these are not good tidings at all.


	2. Chapter 2

"Did you find her?" Sister Julienne asked, voice wavering as she stood nervously beside the front door, waiting on tenterhooks for a sign.

"Yes, Sister" Trixie replied stepping over the threshold, having been unceremoniously hauled from tidying up at the clinic by an urgent telephone call with the rather distressing news. "I found her before the Police could. Thankfully!" she concluded.

Trixie's throat was dry. "She's gone straight to the Hospital with Sister Bernadette".

"And Sister Evangelina?" Sister Julienne asked.

"Just in the bike shed Sister".

Sister Julienne nodded curtly. "What is your next duty Nurse?"

"Tidying up the store room Sister. All that new equipment that arrived yesterday needs putting away", Trixie replied as she took off her coat. It wasn't an urgent job by any means but she needed something to occupy herself before her mind took off with itself.

"I suggest that you leave that for a moment and we will all take tea early" Sister Julienne said, too needing to find something to distract her and the only way that she could think of it, was to immerse herself in company.

"Of course Sister" Trixie replied, seeing the Sister purse her lips and nod. "I'll go and get Sister Evangelina".

As Sister Julienne stepped away, silently and swiftly, a prayer found its way to the Heavens for the hours and days to come.

The source of the concern, however, was entirely unconscious to the fuss that was being caused. His wife, though, was sitting quietly in the cold, depressing Hospital corridor, regulation maroon hat on her knee; hands clasped too in silent prayer.

_"__Chummy!" _

_Her head had snapped up at Trixie's voice, ready to greet her friend who was positively racing towards her, until she saw the look on her face. _

_"__What's wrong there old girl?" Chummy had smiled at her, tightening the pack on the back of her bicycle, thankful that Ann Bowles was the last call of the day and entirely oblivious to the news that was to come. She didn't think that there was much untoward at all with how today had unfolded and had been thoroughly looking forward to going home._

_"__Chummy…" Trixie begun. "We need you to come back to Nonnatus"._

_"__Why?" Chummy had asked curiously, wondering now what on earth was going on._

_"__The Police have been out looking for you", Trixie replied to her, brushing a lock of hair away from her face, seeing her friends face fall. Chummy knew there was only one reason why the Police would be looking for her with such urgency to send a search party out for her. Peter had told her – assured her - such a long time ago, that if he every came to harm on duty, the Inspector would make sure she was found immediately. At the time she had simply digested the information and thought no more of it. Until now, as every noise around her - children playing and women gossiping - had faded into insignificance as she tried to concentrate on Trixie's voice.  
_

_"__What's happened to him?" she had stuttered, praying that it was nothing like this._

"I am sure they cannot be much longer" Sister Bernadette said as she saw the Nurse, head bowed, turning to her from her spot by the small window, having been staring out into the star filled night for some minutes.

"Sorry Sister?" Chummy replied, her voice quiet. Sister Bernadette sat down beside her on the uncomfortable hospital chairs that lined the corridor.

"They cannot be much longer" she repeated, wanting to be of reassurance. A quick look at the clock on the wall above the Nurse's head had shown too many hours had passed already.

"When I was training" Chummy started. "Families would ask me why an operation had to take so long. I always told them that the surgeons were wanting to make sure they did an extra good job of it".

"Well I would hope that they would regardless" Sister Bernadette replied. "And they will be doing their very best, Nurse".

"Yes I know" she replied, nodding carefully. "That's what the Inspector said too".

_"__I am afraid, Mrs Noakes, that several of my officers were caught up in a rather violent incident in the Dockyard this afternoon. Unfortunately your husband and one other officer received knife wounds and they have been taken to the London for surgery. I am assured both are in good hands"._

From that moment on, as her mind carefully tried to process the Inspector's words, she had been in a haze. She felt detached and frighteningly unemotional as the words repeated themselves in her ears as she was packed, with Sister Bernadette, into the back of a Police car. He had not elaborated where those wounds were or indeed what surgery was being done, it being far more urgent to ensure that she, and the other officer's parents, were informed yet it was as though she was watching herself from outside.

Now, having no idea of the time, except it was dark outside the Hospital window, Chummy still felt lightheaded, lost and separated. She knew that feeling all too well, except it had never been one that she had been forced to face in the aftermath of someone she loved so dearly coming to harm.

"Well, I will stay as long as you need me Nurse. Sister Julienne is aware of the situation that he is still in surgery" the Sister stated, having slipped away for five minutes to tell Nonnatus the only news that they were sure of – that he was still there and still alive; they believed.

"Thank you" Chummy replied, nodding quickly, turning the felt hat as it lay on her knee. To her left a door marked 'Operating Theatre' crashed open causing them both to jump in surprise.

"Dr Morgan?" Chummy asked, recognising the figure as he strode towards her.

"My word, Camilla Browne", he breathed as both women stood up, expectant. He had not seen her for too many years that he cared to remember and she had not changed one bit.

"Is my husband alright?" she pleaded.

"Your husband might be?" Dr Morgan asked, genuinely not even knowing that Chummy had married.

"Peter Noakes. One of the police officers that came in" she replied.

"Ah that I do not know" he said. "These fair hands were assisting with the other officer. A Constable Forrest I believe his name was".

"Bill" Chummy uttered. "Bill Forrest. Is he alright?" she asked, concerned, having seen his distressed parents a short while ago as they too traced steps around the corridors. They had exchanged a few words but they had preferred to wander in silence as she sat stock still.

"Yes he will be. He had a very lucky escape." he replied, seeing her face pale and concerned. "I must go and find the parents, but after that would you like me to see if I can find out about your husband? I believe Professor Edwards has him".

Both nurses knew that name. The Prof – as he was known – was probably the most senior surgeon in the hospital.

"Yes please, if you could" Chummy asked, wanting to know right this second.

Dr Morgan nodded to Chummy and then to Sister Bernadette who had stood up beside her and left them on his search.

"He is in very good hands with Professor Edwards, Nurse" Sister Bernadette offered hoping it was of some comfort.

"Yes I know" Chummy replied, sitting back down. "But the Professor Sister?" All kinds of scenarios were running through her mind. Sometimes it pained her to know as much as she did to have such a senior surgeon operating on him.

She heard Sister Bernadette breath out, tension too running through her veins although desperately trying not to expose her feelings or her fears to the Nurse. "Should I fetch us a hot drink Nurse? It is becoming rather chilly".

Chummy nodded quickly. She had heard that if you about to cry that taking a drink would interrupt the reflex and convince her body that it had better things to concentrate on. The moment she saw him though she knew she would need gallons of the stuff on hand.

Perhaps half an hour passed, most likely more, when there was another almighty thud as the Professor clattered through the Operating Theatre door. Both Sister Bernadette and Chummy shot up, both forgetting how intimidating the Professor could be as his white coat flew behind him like a cape. Both knew him of old and both still held him in such a regard that they were still slightly fearful.

"Nurse Browne now to be known as Nurse Noakes I believe?" he boomed, clapping his hands together.

"Good evening Professor" both women said in greeting.

"Your husband is being taken up to the ward as the surgery went as well as I could have expected" he started.

"He lost a significant amount of blood as the splenic artery was rather interrupted by the injury so the old spleen had to go. Originally thought I might have to involve the gastro- intestinal chaps but no all is otherwise relatively intact _but_.." he started, raising a finger as she was about to interrupt to ask questions. "He remains somewhat fragile so I am not allowing attention of any kind other than medical. You will go home and return to see him at afternoon visiting tomorrow _if_ I deem it appropriate".

"But…." Chummy started, now feeling tears decide to prick at her eyes at this barrier that was now being forcibly placed in her path.

"You will do as I say Mrs Noakes" the Professor emphasised. "Whilst I fully appreciate you have more knowledge than the average wife, I am treating you as the average wife so I am telling you that you will go home and return tomorrow. Now, I also have a home to go to so I will say goodnight".

With that he was off, leaving Sister Bernadette and Chummy dumbfounded and the latter feeling, for the first time, such a hollow in her middle that almost took her to running after him and falling to her knees, forgetting all sense of public decorum and begging him to let her see her husband.

"You will stay at Nonnatus tonight with us" Sister Bernadette said, resting her hand on the Nurse's arm. "We will not have you at home on your own".

"No" Chummy replied. "I want to go back home". If she could not be with him here, she could bury herself in their bed hoping she could still smell Brylcreem on his pillow, or just run her hands over the pyjamas that would be stuffed, probably creased, underneath it.

"Nurse you will come to Nonnatus tonight. I will hear no more about it. Come along now". Sister Bernadette's gentle lilt eventually met her ears and she, with deep reluctance, walked away, staring back towards the operating theatre doors, wondering if she stayed perhaps a minute or two longer he would be wheeled out and she could at least assure herself he was still there.

As the heavy oak Hospital doors closed behind her, Chummy let herself be led to where a taxi was waiting for them both and she despaired.


	3. Chapter 3

A bed had been moved into Trixie's room to welcome, if that were the word, Chummy back into Nonnatus' fold for however long she may need to be there. Trixie herself was not on call that night so, all in all, it was felt best that she be the listening ear and the shoulder to undoubtedly cry on as between the girls and Fred they had shifted the wooden frame across the corridor.

"What's that?" Chummy asked arms curled around her knees, sitting up in bed as Trixie stepped into the room. Trixie too was in her night clothes, trying vainly to hide the bottle that Sister Evangelina placed behind the two cups of Horlicks that were to be taken upstairs balanced carefully on a tray.

"Chloral Hydrate" Trixie replied, deciding that it might be best not to beat about the bush as she put the gaudy flowered tray down on her dressing table. She knew her friend was not soft by any means and had probably recognised the label on the bottle already so trying to camouflage its presence was pointless.

"Oh no certainly not!" Chummy exclaimed, vigorously shaking her head, pleading eyes scouring Trixie's face. "I am not taking a sedative! I need to be awake if the Hospital telephone during the night".

"And you also need to be awake when you go and visit him tomorrow" Trixie replied, turning around, holding out the bottle and a spoon before it was placed on the bedside table. "You know how much to take".

Chummy looked up reluctantly as Trixie stood with her arms folded and eyebrows raised; firmly not taking 'no' for an answer. The bottle had been thrust into her hands downstairs by Sister Evangelina, having taken one look at the quiet, pale and shocked figure that stood before her, barely able to articulate what little information she knew and Trixie had been told in no uncertain terms to make sure it was taken.

"Chummy" she said as she sat down on the edge of the swiftly arranged bed. "It is really for the best. You and I can talk until you sleep and if you do wake up, I will be here". She saw her friend swallow as she was passed the spoon.

"Yes, yes, one knows you will and one is ever so grateful" Chummy replied, turning the metal over in her hands. "I just…."

Trixie let her rest for a moment, still toying with the spoon, clearly something on the tip of her tongue. "I just…."

"Go on", Trixie soothed, conscious that in times past Chummy would be the last one to reveal her thoughts or feelings. "I am all ears and I promise that whatever you say will not go past these four walls".

Chummy closed her eyes, so unused to confessing her innermost beliefs to anyone. She still struggled with Peter, feeling slightly silly when she still became flustered trying to articulate her intimate thinking to him. "I just would like…to just…when Sister Bernadette and I left the Hospital I was trying to think, trying to remember what Brylcreem smelled like and I couldn't".

"I'm confused", Trixie said, seeing her friend's watery eyes open and rise to her.

"When Peter is on nights", Chummy started. "No!" she shook her head, embarrassed at how intimate this conversation was becoming, going to unscrew the bottle top in a desperate distraction, hoping she could divert the subject away from what was running unbidden through her mind.

"Go on, when Peter is on nights?" Chummy felt Trixie squeeze her arm. "It's better out than in".

Chummy's heart was clamouring in her chest again; just like it had been as Trixie broke the news to her, being careful and so desperately compassionate about it, but still.

"When we were first married" she started, letting herself talk of things she would never perhaps say otherwise, just desiring someone to listen, "I would sleep on his side of the bed, or swop his pillow so I knew he was there, even though he wasn't, I still _felt _he was there. Horrible greasy stuff Brylcreem is all over the place, and I cursed him so many times for not washing it out of his hair before bed, but it made me think he was there". She swallowed again and Trixie let her continue, rubbing her hand gently up and down her arm with a quiet smile.

"He knows I do it and he tells me not to be so silly as he will always come back, but…" The tears began. Heavy, wrenching sobs and Trixie rescued the bottle of sedative before it poured all over the bedclothes, hastily putting it safe on the bedside table again.

"When we first got married" she stuttered, sniffing back her emotions, "it was so easy to get used to not being on my own any more because I trusted him so much and it felt like he had always been there, that when I was sitting with Sister Bernadette... I couldn't remember…." With that more tears came.

"All I can think about is that I _can't remember what it's like_…and if I never see him awake again..." She melted immediately into Trixie's open arms as her body began to convulse.

"Now, we will have none of that!" Trixie replied, voice measured, calm and low, smoothing her hand over her friend's back as she tightened the hug. "He came through the operation. Yes?" Chummy nodded.

"And the surgeon seemed happy?" Trixie asked again, trying to bring a chink of light to the situation.

"He did" she replied, sitting up again, wiping her hands across her chin quickly feeling embarrassed at such a show of unbridled emotion.

"Then we take each day as it comes" Trixie replied, gently brushing away a tear from her friend's face. "You are strong Mrs Noakes, don't you ever forget that!"

"He makes me strong", she whimpered. He'd given her the strength to stay in Poplar, to stand up to her mother and have the ability to say 'yes' to him after all. All of that; it had come from his presence in her life and what on earth would she do without?

"Then you keep hold of that. You will be the other side of this before you know it and you will have him home to help him recover".

Chummy sighed. She would certainly be doing that. Helping him recover. Nurse him and care for him and thank God for every second of the day, never really wanting to think of the day that might come where her true fears became realisation. The strength of that was overwhelming and so very desperately she willed time to come forward so she could bring him home, still not knowing precisely what happened.

"And we will help you do whatever you need to do. Now are you going to take this?" Trixie asked, nodding to the bottle on the nightstand.

"Does one have a choice?" Chummy replied, swiping her hand across her face again.

"Not really" Trixie responded, unscrewing the cap of the bottle, presenting it to be taken.

Chummy swallowed the liquid; tired in any event, but too tense to sleep the way nature intended. It may be artificially induced but Trixie was perhaps right. He would want her to rest for tomorrow.

"Now" Trixie began, pointing to the other side of the room. "If you need me I am in that bed right there".

The pair settled down, Chummy placing her glasses on the bedside table and pulling the green cover over her shoulder. She knew Chloral Hydrate would have her drowsy and asleep within an hour.

"I can't pretend", Trixie started from her bed staring at the ceiling, "that I know what it's like to love someone enough to marry them or to think that you might want to".

"I didn't know before" Chummy replied, eyes suddenly drawn to her wedding ring as her hand lay on the mattress.

"But I can understand what it's like to think you are going to lose someone and the desperation that you can do so little about it", Trixie continued. "You will see him tomorrow. Just think of tomorrow".

"I never felt" Chummy began, wanting to talk otherwise she would start crying again, "that I could ever find myself in the old marriage boat. Or at least not one I would happily sail in".

"Would your mother have really married you off for money?" Trixie asked a curious question that had on occasion been one burning to be asked but she thought it impolite.

"Oh yes" Chummy whispered. "It was all about what she and Pa wanted; that's why she was so furious with me".

"For making up your own mind?"

"Yes and for supposedly throwing my future down the Poplar toilet bowl", Chummy continued.

"But you loved him" Trixie noted, wondering how on earth any parent could refuse their child the opportunity to be in love or be loved.

"Love him", Chummy emphasised. There was nothing past tense about it. "All the girls and him; you've been the only things – people – I have felt so welcomed by to feel like just being who I am".

"Well you know that will always be the case. Come what may we will all be here for each other", Trixie replied stifling a yawn herself. Today had been unsettling for all and her eyes were starting to close in the darkness of the room.

"Yes I do. I know that so very much". This time Chummy knew she could believe it, feeling her own eyes begin to grow heavy as her muscles began to relax as the medication did its work.

"Do you want me to come to the Hospital with you tomorrow?" she heard from the other side of the room. "I've got morning visits, but that's it".

"Yes, yes please if you could".

Trixie could hear her friend's voice starting to slow as the sedative took effect.

"I would really like it if you could".


	4. Chapter 4

"'Ello Nurse Noakes" came a voice from her side as she sat staring at the insipidly coloured door, behind which lay her husband. She had been put there to wait and yes, that's what she was certainly doing.

Chummy raised her head to see Bill Forrest - the also injured Constable Forrest - standing beside her, in his pyjamas, right arm in a sling and a bandage on his cheek. He also had a very angry looking black eye.

"Hello Bill" she replied, taking him in as he stood before her, pale, clearly in pain and smiling sleepily at her. He looks so tired, she noted. "I heard you were caught up in it all. How are you?"

"Battered an' bruised Mrs Noakes" the twenty two year old replied. "I 'ear my boss got it worse vo"

"Your boss?" Chummy asked, unsure to whom he was referring to, not thinking it was her husband. She'd never heard him called that before.

"Pete was my mentor Mrs Noakes, when I was on probation so 'e's my boss. So I says anyway. Firs' day we're on shift togevver in weeks an' we gets ourselves right caught up in it".

"What happened?" she asked. "No-one seems to want to tell me".

Bill sat carefully next to her, installed on the horrid waiting chairs, gently nursing his bandaged arm with his uninjured hand.

"We was called to a fight. Told it we're some foreigners fightin' over sellin' barrels of beer an' vey reckoned vey'd been short changed over it" he started taking a deep breath, some memories most vivid. "Anyways we gets down vere and we goes into ve warehouse – four of us vere were – and next fing I 'ear is someone shoutin' for me to move. If fink it was Pete, but next fing I see vis blade comin' towards me and it got me face and me arm. Took an artery vey said, but vey said vat if 'e 'adn't shouted me to move it would 'ave got me juggler".

"Jugular" Chummy corrected out of habit. "Did you see what happened to Peter?" she asked carefully.

"No Mrs Noakes. Nuffink. I went out cold an' next fing I knows I'm wakin' up in me pyjamas 'ere". Chummy saw the officer's head raise to a figure walking along the corridor.

"'Ello Nurse Franklin", he said, rising from his seat out of respect.

"Bill" Trixie smiled. "How are you?"

"Bin better, but lived to tell ve tale" he smiled.

"Constable Forrest what are you doing out of bed?" It was a question from a Nurse that Chummy recognised as she well, _stomped_, down the hallway to where the three were located.

"Sorry Sister" Bill said, contrite, knowing full well he should not walking around the hospital. It had only been an hour since the blood transfusion had ceased and he knew he should be in bed. "Saw Mrs Noakes 'ere an' wanted to 'ave a word or free".

"Well have those words been said Constable?" the Nurse asked, looking Trixie up and down.

"Yes Sister" he replied.

"Then back to bed with you. Go on" she ordered, pointing down towards where his ward must have been. "Off with you!"

"Have they said you can go in?" the Nurse asked, directly to Trixie who was decidedly confused, entirely ignoring the other nurse who was still seated between them.

"No" Chummy replied, standing up feeling like using her full height to her advantage this time. "Not yet". The Hospital nurse was clearly caught off guard.

"Sorry!" she said, almost shaking herself. "_You_ are Mrs Noakes?"

"Yes" Chummy replied, lips turning up as sweetly as she could muster. "My husband" she continued, nodding towards the closed door. For some reason Trixie felt her friends hackles rise and wondered why.

"You got married?" the Nurse asked.

"Yes, in September". It was now a month to Christmas. "Do you think you can find a doctor to see if I can go in and see him? I would like to see him sooner rather than later". Thinking on it, as the nurse walked away to find someone, she had jumped that fence in a most remarkable manner. Must be what marriage or Nonnatus or both had done to her.

"Who was that?" Trixie whispered as the figure walked away, it dawning on her that the pair must have known each other of old.

"An acquaintance from far too long ago than I care to remember" Chummy whispered back carefully not to ensure she was overheard. They were just about to sit down again when out of the corner of her eye Trixie saw a white coat.

"Hello Nurse Noakes and Nurse Franklin, pleasure to see you again". They turned to see Dr Morgan. "Would you like to go in to see your husband? He isn't awake but that is solely down to sedation".

"Could I?" Chummy asked, a cold sensation twisting itself up and down her spine.

"As I know you, I might turn a blind eye for a few more minutes than is strictly allowed, but yes" he said. "He is still quite unwell, but he has stabilised overnight".

"See I told you?" Trixie murmered squeezing her hand.

"Come in with me?" Chummy asked quickly, turning to her friend.

"Of course I will. For two minutes to get you settled and then I will wait out here until you are ready to go".

They saw Dr Morgan nod. "I am afraid I will be calling time at fifteen minutes and no more. As I said he is sedated so you are unlikely to be able to hold a conversation".

"That's perfectly alright", Chummy replied. Right at that moment she couldn't have cared as it was simply the need to see that he was still there that was momentarily overwhelming.

"Fifteen minutes" Dr Morgan repeated as he walked away, Chummy feeling a hand in her back although her feet were suddenly and unexpectedly glued to the floor as a tremor overtook her voice.

"Well go on" Trixie encouraged seeing the frown, softly pushing her forward.

"I'm not sure I can…"

"What? Why on earth not?" Trixie questioned, wanting herself to see him too if only to reassure herself as well. She was entirely unsure how her friend might cope if some dreaded day they became separated.

The difficulty was that Chummy had a picture of him in her head. That's what was stopping her in her tracks. It was the last time she had seen him; standing in the middle of the kitchen armed with a piece of toast and a cup of tea and ready to leave for what they all presumed would be a normal day. It seemed years ago, even though it was only yesterday morning, and he looked like he would every other day of the week. Now she was thoroughly frightened he would look _different_. Her heart skipped for a moment, remembering the kiss goodbye when he had trapped her between him and the doorframe and she had practically had to push him out of the front of the house to go to work.

Chummy knew enough to know how much blood he must have lost. She knew what happened when a splenic artery was severed _and_ knew how at risk he was from infection too. The operation might have been a battle won but it was far from the war.

"Come on" Trixie encouraged. "Think of those fifteen minutes ticking away".

Chummy breathed quickly and gently pushed at the door, hearing it creak as she stepped inside. To her left she first saw his legs, covered with a white sheet and as she opened the door further her eyes fixated until they finally rested on his face.

She must have said something, or done something, as she heard Trixie whisper in her ear.

_ "__Sssshhh, everything will be alright". _

Perhaps there had been an exclamation or the like as she saw him. Whichever way it might have been, however, her feet took her to the side of his bed and hearing a chair scrape across the floor, she was propelled downwards.

"Now I will be outside" Trixie said, tenderness in her voice, as Chummy felt the comforting hands leave her shoulders.

"Th….thank you" Chummy stuttered, swallowing suddenly so afraid to even take his hand, bombarded with a feeling of utter helplessness. It felt as though a thousand people were shouting in her ears as she tried to take in the picture in front of her very eyes.

She studied him for a moment as she clasped her hands on her lap; a drip breathing blood into his left hand, but skin an unearthly shade of grey as he lay motionless before her. Words were dying in her throat, not knowing what to say; whether he may hear her or not.

"Peter?" she asked quietly, deciding that she would take up the hand laid close to her. His skin was not cold; nor was it warm as she wrapped both hands around his, desperate that he might react even in the minutest manner.

"What in the world has brought you here?" she breathed as she leant down pressing the back of his hand to her cheek, not knowing what else to say. He probably couldn't hear her anyway and words were failing her as she stared at him. Her darling Peter didn't look like Peter any more – if that made sense at all. Not him; not her husband, not the person lying in the stark hospital room. Every so gently she touched his forehead, wrapping one or two of those curls that appeared when his hair was free of that blessed concoction he seemed to favour to torment them straight. He didn't react though as she withdrew her hand, sighing as she went.

She stared at him for a moment longer and shivered. Somebody or something had walked over her grave.

"What will I do?" she sighed, just wanting those eyes to open. "What must I do to make you better?"


	5. Chapter 5

An almost ethereal noise swept and wound its way around Nonnatus as the day drew itself into early evening, the sky a generous shade of navy blue.

_Through the day thy love has spared us;  
now we lay us down to rest;_

_through the silent watches guard us,  
let no foe our peace molest;_

_Jesus, thou our Guardian be;  
sweet it is to trust in thee._

"Thomas Kelly" Cynthia whispered as she sat down next to Jenny as they breathed in the voices of the Sisters as they permeated down the Chapel corridor to where the two nurses were now seated on the stone steps that led into the garden.

"1806" Jenny replied, quoting from memory the year the hymn was written as she stared up into the sky. "It's freezing out here" she continued, although not feeling the need or want to get up as the evening began to envelop them both.

Quietly Cynthia slipped her arm into Jenny's for warmth and companionship as they sat in silence listening to the Sisters as their heavenly voices drifted to their ears.

_Pilgrims here on earth, and strangers,  
dwelling in the midst of foes;_

_us and ours preserve from dangers;  
in thine arms may we repose._

_and, when life's sad day is past,  
rest with thee in heaven at last_

"Did Trixie go with Chummy after all?" Cynthia asked as the hymn settled to its conclusion, having not see either come back to Nonnatus in the hours before between her calls.

"Only to the Hospital" Jenny replied, having witnessed their return; Trixie immediately sending Chummy upstairs to their shared room. Jenny did not see her properly but could feel her distress as it permeated from her very being. "Sister Evangelina has taken her home to pick up a few bits and bobs for herself and for Peter".

"But she is coming back here?" Cynthia questioned, thinking that it would do her no good to be in their house on her own in solitude. At least here they could include her, keep an eye on her; evening if it was only a listening ear and a cup of tea.

Jenny nodded. "Sister Julienne said she will not have it any other way".

"Did they say how Peter was?" Cynthia asked.

"Only through the surgery and sedated" Jenny reported, all on edge as to what the next few days and weeks may hold. "Nothing else. I don't think even the doctors would know this soon".

"Yes you are probably right", Cynthia said in a most reflective tone. Each one of them have enough knowledge that it was simply too early to tell. It was bad enough for them, but must have been so many times worse for their friend who knew him so very much more than they did.

"Now do you have everything you need?" Sister Evangelina said, trying not to sound brusque as she stood in the doorway to the sitting room of the Noakes household as Chummy shot from room to room, eventually to come to a halt in the hallway.

"Yes, Sister", she replied, carrying two bags – one of hers and the other which she would take into the Hospital for Peter. Toothbrush, two pairs of clean pyjamas, dressing gown...the list went on and on. "I think I've got all he could need".

"Now you will be staying with us for as long as it takes you do know that?" Sister Evangelina emphasised, not going to have a word to the contrary. "So I do hope that you have packed well".

"Yes, Sister and…" Chummy started, fiddling with the strap on one of the bags as had started to dig into her arm in its weight. "One is so very grateful".

Sometime, a long time ago, if this had happened to her then she might simply have run home and collapsed in tears, closed the door and shut herself away as she had so many times before when misfortune had fallen at her door. Not to say those tears would not be pending in her eyes until she knew he was safe under her care at home and probably for days after, but the difference in her - now Camilla Noakes the person – made her appreciate the people around her more; knowing simply that they had her best interests at heart and she need not push them away.

"Good, now come along" the Sister said, taking one of the bags. "We do not have all night to be dallying around".

Every time the telephone rang, her heart bounced against her ribs. Each time though it was another mother in labour, or a worried father or simply, the last time, the Mother House – at six o'clock in the morning. Chummy had however heard almost every single telephone call as she lay awake, one moment asleep – perhaps for ten or fifteen minutes she couldn't really tell – and then the next feeling as though she was never going to sleep a wink again waiting, incessantly for her eyes to close. She had insisted on her own room, feeling it entirely unfair that she disturb Trixie, particularly as she had flatly refused the Chloral Hydrate presented to her and the girls had to acquiesce.

It was strange lying in a single bed again though. How many years she had spent at Boarding School stuck shivering on a thin mattress and then at Nonnatus under the green chenille. Now, how she missed the weight of his arm across her middle or even the odd kick in the shins that normally she would curse him for as she bruised like a peach; the only thing, in her mind, delicate about her at all was her capillaries and she missed him already. On one of those rare occasions she had actually dropped off during the night, she had reached out and her arm fell into space, jolting her awake when it realised its loss.

How glad she was that she actually was on her own in that room, her husband's absence aside; otherwise whoever her companion for the night might have been would have been truly disturbed by the tears that she tried to bury into her pillow as the night, in its peace, overtook her. How frightening it was, laying the dark, wondering whether he was still asleep or in pain or whether a second later the telephone downstairs might ring for her bringing dreadful news.

Now lying awake, dawn breaking, her mind and body were overwhelmingly exhausted.

Wednesday. It was Wednesday. Her once a month day off – normally - but the first thing she would be doing would be telephoning the Hospital; hoping that there was even the slightest modicum of good news.

"Knock knock" came a voice from outside as Sister Bernadette peeked around the door fully laden tea tray in hand. "Now I know we do not normally offer breakfast in bed services but I think, just today, we can make an exception".

Chummy watched as she walked across to the dressing table under the window, placing the full tray down. "It's porridge, tea and hot buttered toast" the Sister said, turning over a china cup.

"Thank you Sister" Chummy whispered sitting up, seeing the curtains pulled aside, revealing the very early morning, albeit on a very grey and miserable day. The last thing she could stomach was porridge as it lay in the bowl.

"Now, I presume you will be going to the Hospital today?" the Sister asked.

"Yes Sister, of course Sister", Chummy said, arranging the bedclothes around her as she was passed a cup of tea.

"Would you see it that somebody comes with you?"

Chummy paused before she answered. "No, Sister, its quite alright. When I left last night they said that they were keeping him sedated until at least tomorrow so he won't wake no matter how hard I pray". She thought for a moment. "The Hospital didn't telephone during the night did they?" Chummy asked, so terrified that that telephone call had come in one of the minutes of restfulness and the Sisters had somehow kept it from her until the morning.

The Sister sat gently on the bed. "No. No telephone calls but with your permission we will all pray for him, Nurse".

"I know and yes, I would like that if you could", she spluttered tears threatening again, feeling one escape down her cheek. "I'm so sorry Sister, so much bally blubbering" she protesting, gently touching her hand to her skin to wipe away the offending tear.

"I quite understand" Sister Bernadette replied. "We all experience upset and loss Nurse; whether we wear the habit or we don't".

"Yes" Chummy replied, knowing of the loss that the Sister had suffered whilst she was just a child. "I am sorry. In one's own distress one forgets oneself sometimes".

"Years have passed" the Sister mused, thinking back, the hurt having lessened solely by the passage of time. "The memories are still there and the distress, it does decrease...but", she added quickly, "Constable Noakes is through his surgery and he is young and well enough otherwise so there is no reason why we need to have our minds consumed with the prospect of loss".

Chummy nodded. "The doctors said I could go again at eleven o'clock". The moment could not come quick enough, even if she was in some strange quandary of the unexplained - wanting to see him yet with a desperate fear of what she may find.

"Then take your time with your breakfast and come down and perhaps you will join us in the chapel?" Sister Bernadette asked.

"Yes, thank you Sister" Chummy replied. "I would like that".

When the Sister left, ever so carefully, Chummy set about the toast. Every mouthful was an effort having no desire whatsoever to eat; her appetite waning as each hour passed. She must eat though and for him, be the strongest she could be as there were fresh battles undoubtedly on their way.


	6. Chapter 6

She knew she shouldn't be doing it.

Chummy's eyes scanned the observation chart that had once been hanging on the end of his bed until temptation became too much and, not entirely unbidden, her hands had picked it up; carefully making sure that there was little opportunity for discovery. Here, she was his wife and wife alone and as far as the medical staff were concerned she did not have a nursing qualification to her name. Anyone else though and the list of numbers, wavy lines, blood pressure readings, pulse and respiration rate would have meant little at all, but to her, to her relief, what it did show were steady analyses and no significant problems.

She had only replaced the clipboard by seconds when the door opened.

"Hello Mrs Noakes".

"Dr Morgan" she replied, going to sit down next to the bed, taking up his hand, still not cold still not warm. "Has he been alright?"

"A comfortable night" the Doctor assured. "No alarms I would have to say". He picked up the very observation chart that Chummy had, only moments earlier, hastily put down.

"Good" Chummy replied, taking a quick glance at her husband. Nothing had changed in that split second.

"I think I can allow you some more time today" he said as she smiled quickly at him. "The Professor reduced his sedation last night although I would admit that, according to this, there has been little sign of waking".

"No Doctor" Chummy responded automatically. That had been clear to her too from the nurse's scribbled notes underneath the charts and whilst it would be her worst dread that there had been deterioration, there was no indication either of improvement.

"I would try to have a conversation, or at least a one sided conversation with him and I will be back in one hour then I must be asking you to leave so your husband can continue to rest" he concluded, clipping the board back down.

The door closed behind her, clicking shut, and peace descended. She had thought of unpacking the bundle she had brought with her but suddenly she needed that time to sit with him as she reassured herself that he was truly there. Talk to him though? She had no idea where to start.

She could never be accused of endless babbling unless it was one of those particular days when nerves had overtaken her. Most of the time though it was a case of _certainly_ not to those that she had not become accustomed to, dreading have to make speeches at school or to contribute in debates for fear of making a fool of herself with one word or phrase. Something stopped her. What are you talking about you foolish gel? This isn't a lecture or indeed the podium in the assembly hall. This person here is your _husband_, this person is the one you married, the one you have allowed to be so, so close you; so much closer than any other man ever will.

She swallowed carefully.

"Everybody sends their love" she started, watching his chest rise and fall desperate for just a slight flicker on his face or a move of a finger that lay twisted with hers. "I spoke to your Mum and Dad yesterday and they are coming back from Walton on the Naze today. I've asked the Sisters to put them up".

"The Sisters insist that I stay at Nonnatus too. I do hope you don't mind it, but I think that they are right that it will do me no good to be in our house without you there. You know I do not like it at the best of times when you are on nightshift, but….Sister Evangelina came with me to collect things for you. They are just over there", she concluded nodding her head towards the tan leather bag on the chair.

She frowned for a moment, starting to count his breaths, as his face lay blank and expressionless. Every other day, leading up to two days ago, she loved being a Nurse; having the knowledge that she did, but now? Reassured at reaching a neat and unworrying number of fourteen respirations she carried on.

"It's pyjamas, toothbrush, some outdoor clothes and a couple of books and all the things I think you'll need when you are up and about", she started again, still feeling most peculiar in this half way house of wife and nurse. "I didn't know whether to bring a radio or anything like that as I don't think it's allowed. I think I remember it being that way here so long ago. Anyway it's all here and I can bring other things in from home if we have to. The Sisters aren't letting me go out on house calls so I am Nonnatus' landlubber again, filling in forms and organising rotas".

"But they have been so very good to me Peter, they really have. All of them".

She sighed, her words coming out in a rush. Still no sign of even a trace of movement or recognition on his face though.

Her fingers fell on a pulse point in his wrist and her mind began to work of its own accord. Fifteen seconds; quick calculation in your head to saving wasting a whole minute. Sixty four. That's spot on. Nice and steady and strong.

"I don't know what to talk to you about" she began again. "I can talk to you all I like when you can look at me, but…." She frowned gently flexing her hand in his.

"I do so very wish you would open your eyes. Just let me know you're there. Just once because if…if I never see you look at me again…." She shook her head from side to side quickly in an effort to stamp out the tears building in her eyes. Shake them away. Quickly, so very quickly, so no-one will see. Nothing really changes does it, old girl?

"Do you remember….." she said, thinking of familiarity, of old stories; something that might rouse a memory in him. "No, silly stupid me. Of course you remember. When you practically had to drag me away from that conversation with that fascinating woman that I met in that café with the yellow door when we were on honeymoon? I'd never talked to anyone like that before. I know you weren't interested really but she was going to write a book about her time as a nurse on the front line in World War One. She told me I should do the same and I told her that no-one would want to hear about me".

She tipped her head to one side. A speck of something on his cheek. Gently she extracted her right hand and ran it over his skin, pads of her fingers encountering bristles at the two day old beard that had started to grow. His lips looked dry; starting to crack.

"I know I'm not meant to do this this but.." She let go of his hands and leant down to her bag, digging around for the little yellow and bronze tin of Vaseline she carried around with her. Riding around Poplar with the wind whipping at your face did little for your skin. It was the only vanity she had; save the annoyance of peeling lips and gently she spread just a fingertip across his lips too. The tin went back into her bag.

"What life have I had to write a book?" she asked, breathing out, taking his hands back up again. "I've never done half of what I wanted to do as I was so frightened of her disapproving. I wanted to learn to ride a motorcycle like my brothers or climb up to the top of the Oak tree in the house in Somerset, but I didn't dare; didn't even ask her if I could".

She shifted in her seat, looking down at the sheets that cover him.

"You were the first person to make me see I could do these things - I mean, one doesn't think you would let me ride a motorcycle and you know I would probably make a frightful mess of it - but the encouragement you give me. I owe you so much and I've never said a word in thanks".

Her eyes were still downcast; feeling guilty. Guilt was the one thing in life that she succeeded in.

"Thank you Peter" she breathed. "I wish you could hear me but 'thank you'. I think you might have saved my life".

That was it. Tears.

_"__Oh do please stop Camilla, you know that one cannot bear such emotion. Just….just go away child". _

She could still see the dismissive wave of the hand.

Why did her mother's voice have to reverberate around her head right now? What on earth is wrong in showing how you feel? The first person in her life who she felt had genuinely, does genuinely, love her and want the best for her and she cannot express how damn frightened how this whole thing makes her feel?

She kissed the back of his hand in an attempt to distract herself, hoping she could still smell Palmolive on his skin. Resting her cheek she found nothing but the vague odour of hospital soap. A single tear amalgamated with the sleeve of the grim green plaid hospital gown they had put him.

"Sorry", she whispered gently touching the place it fell; the feel of the material rough under her fingertips. "You shouldn't have me blubbering all over you all of the time!"

"I will though..." she said, still talking to herself, swallowing back those few seconds of tears. "I will just unpack your bag before I go though. A nicer pair of pyjamas for tomorrow instead of these dreadful things" she concluded.

"Yes, I'll do that" Chummy began. "I'll unpack the bag". Carefully she lay his hands down and bustled off to the other side of the room.


	7. Chapter 7

She had left the Hospital in a daze. The rest of the hour she had spent talking to him, answering her own questions and watching for the slightest sign. As she pressed her lips to his cold forehead, seeing the clock tick towards the hour she gently brushed down the bedclothes, and whispered three words that she could struggle so much with, hoping they may register deep into his subconscious.

Now, back at Nonnatus, she had deliberately found occupation; sorting through the charity box between the knitted baby clothes, bootees and hats she had collected quite the pile of 'to keep' and 'perhaps that one could be unwound and knitted into something else'. As much as they were grateful for every offering, some of them were, well, not quite suitable for handing out to the Parish at large.

Every colour of the rainbow was in front of her and just as she was about to place all the 'to keep' back neatly in the box, the doorbell rang. She looked up quickly, realising just how long she had been spending sorting out the various woollen and cotton garments that it was past the time that Peter's parents were due to arrive at Nonnatus and it was probably them. Their son was a fastidious time keeper and she had wondered just where he had inherited from if his parents lack of attention to the clock was anything to go by.

She got up to find that Sister Julienne had already answered the door, to find only Peter's mother Irene standing in the hallway with the Sister.

"'Is legs off again" Irene said to Chummy who saw Peter's father, with a walking stick, heave himself over the last two steps to Nonnatus.

"I looks like summun's grandfarver!" he exclaimed, smiling before pausing. "Well I will be one day won't I?" he said kissing Chummy on the cheek. "Afternoon Petal".

"Hello Bill" she smiled at him. "Renee".

"'Ello dear" his mother replied, also kissing her on the cheek.

Sister Julienne had half expected a flustering response to the comment about grandchildren but all it did was raise a smile in the nurse and it pleased her somewhat as she shook their hands.

"Nurse Noakes do you mind taking Mr and Mrs Noakes up to the first floor so that they can get settled in?" Sister Julienne asked waving them both inside Nonnatus.

"Of course Sister".

"I will go and put the kettle on" Sister Julienne whispered conspiratorially to his mother.

"Perfec'. Thank you Sister" Irene replied.

His parents followed Chummy up the winding staircase and along the main corridor passing all of the girls rooms.

"It can get a bit noisy at night with people up and about so Sister Julienne has given you my old room. It's the one furthest down so it should be quiet" Chummy observed.

"Oh" his mother started. "Don't worry about us. When we was first wed we lived in one tiny room up the back of Byrom Street. Comin's an' goin's all round the blessed clock!"

"Vat's right" Bill echoed as he trailed behind the two women as they got to the end of the corridor. "Walls were vat fin you could 'ear ve cat next door purrin'"

"Well there you are!" Chummy said, opening the door as it creaked and walking into the familiarity of the old acquaintance that she had in fact not known for very long, but it had treated her as one of its own.

"That will do us jus' fine" Irene carried on as they stepped over the threshold into the freshly made up room, late sun streaming through the curtains and bedding perfectly ironed.

"Nevver stayed in a Nunnery afore" his father observed as he propped his walking stick against the bedpost. "Does it mean I 'ave to stop sayin' fings vat ain't appropriate?" he whispered deliberately to Chummy as she smiled. The first light she's seen in days.

"Vat cat story wasn't purrin' when he told it to our neighbour las' week - it was fartin'" Irene announced, to which Chummy could only laugh at the dry and blunt way she had said it.

"See vat's better ain't it?" his father said, linking her arm in his. "Wots done is done and 'es still wiv us so we 'ave to be lookin' forward. I've no intentions of losin' two sons so 'e will come out of vat hospital and come 'ome. I has to believe vat".

"Yes you are quite right", Chummy replied, suddenly realising that for all of her emotion, this was the second son that Irene and Bill faced losing and she should have realised.

"Now listen" his mother started, turning back to her daughter in law, gently placing her hands on her arms. "I will not 'ave you sayin' no, your Dad an' me are takin' you out for tea tonight. Fought about vat nice place at the back of ve High Street? 'ale Street or ve like?"

"Hale Street, yes" Chummy replied. "I know where you mean. Peter and I used to go there. Its cosy."

"Well ven", Irene said, giving her daughter in law a quick squeeze. "We'll get settled in an' we'll go about five?"

She wasn't remotely hungry but with Irene Noakes food equated as love so she knew that she could not escape not eating. The three, or rather two since Bill had caught up with a friend who also happened to be dining, sat in a booth near the window. They had been lost in their own thoughts until his mother decided to break the silence.

"God know ow long e's gone to be!" Irene exclaimed gesturing vaguely at her husband who was talking to someone over the other side of the dining rooms. "Don' even know who vey are!"

Chummy smiled but her ability to converse was starting to fail her.

"So how are you gettin' on ven?" Irene asked, deliberately waiting until she had a moment alone with the girl. She could see in her eyes alone that she was deeply troubled. Hell, they were all deeply troubled by these past few days.

Chummy hesitated. "I don't know", she responded simply.

"Yes" his mother replied, nodding her head. "I understan' vat completely. Can't explain it but understan' vat feelin' of just nuffinkness vat you can't find words for. I don' know what I'll be like when I see ve boy but you don' 'ave to explain a word to me, sweetheart, not a word".

"Thank you Renee". She struggled to express herself but with his mother, she did not need to. "I really cannot think about losing him".

"Vat's cos the boy got stuck vere" his mother said laying her palm just over her heart. "I fink its as simple as vat. Moment I laid eyes on 'im lookin at me wiv a scrunched up face like a squashed tomato, screaming my ma in law's spare bedroom down I knew vat. Bloody nineteen hours of it but 'e got stuck as my boy an' e's got stuck as your 'usband".

Chummy smiled, taking a speedy sip of tea. "I telephoned the Hospital when you were upstairs and they have said that you can go in at eleven tomorrow".

"Oh vat's good" Irene sighed, much like her daughter in law, wanting to see him yet so unsure as to what she may find. "We'll all get ve bus down togevver".

"No" Chummy started. "It took some persuading to let the two of you in. It was you two or me, not together".

"Really?" his mother asked, frowning as she did.

Chummy nodded. "It's not to tire him out. I do understand why they've got to do it, but …"

"Well, I don' like it one bit, keepin' 'usband an' wife apart. But what can ye do?" she shrugged. "Nuffink when vem doctors get vere 'ands on yer. But fank you for arrangin' it for us" she said, resting her hand on Chummy's arm. "I know it must be 'ard not to see 'im".

"Yes", she spluttered. "Yes it will be".

Knowing that his parents were on their way to the Hospital, breakfast over and the new day begun, Chummy resorted to polishing the large desk in her temporary bedroom to try to distract herself from what was going on several miles away. On her knees, pulling out the three drawers she sighed deeply, resting her palms in her lap. Visiting would start in ten minutes.

She had seen his parents over breakfast this morning and frankly, it was obvious that they had barely slept too. How she wished she was at home. One side grateful for the comfort of friendship, the other wishing she could just see that photograph that hung on their bedroom wall as they stepped from the church and try to remember the contours of his face, or that scar on his cheek when he - as a teenager - ran into a lamppost. She smiled briefly remembering him telling the story in exchange for hers when she put her front teeth though her bottom lip when she cannoned into a bannister at school.

Chummy quietly closed her eyes in silent prayer, looking up for a moment before to ensure the door was closed tight, not wanting someone outside to hear her speaking.

She began, voice low,"Please send him back to me. I feel so unstable Lord without him. You need to keep him here because one day we're going to have our family and I want that to be soon because there will never be anyone else as long as you see fit for me to walk this Earth". She breathed. "You got stuck Constable. your Ma was right. From the moment you picked me up off the floor, you got stuck..."

Three hours later Peter's father appeared at her door, just as she was finishing off a hem on a pair of her trousers, his wife missing.

"She's just wiv ve Sisters, Petal. I don' fink she expected 'im to be like vat".


	8. Chapter 8

Does prayer have the power to heal?

Oh how she wished she believed that it did. Someone somewhere had seen fit to take her youngest boy and now, in some desperate punishment for misdeeds that she did not know that she had done, saw fit to try and take her eldest. _Try and take_ though was the only comfort she had. So far.

Doubt of His influence in her life had only wavered from time to time – her own mother's long illness for one - but in that deepening search for reasons Irene Noakes had withheld her tears from her husband until she heard Sister Bernadette's angelic voice raise at the dark of the night drew in once more.

_Praise to the Lord, the Almighty, the King of creation!  
O my soul, praise him, for he is thy health and salvation!  
All ye who hear,  
now to his temple draw near;  
praise him in glad adoration_

She slipped quietly into the Chapel, seeing the Sisters line the chairs in front of her, heads bowed and eyes closed as the younger Sister's voice wound gracefully as it danced into the sky and it sent shivers cascading up and down her spine.

Her ears closed to the words, Irene simply listened to the lilt as she breathed it its comfort. Billy was never one to believe to the degree she did; neither of their boys did either but now she had wondered whether it was all bunkum and somebody had made it all up as a wicked fantasy if she was to be punished this way simply for loving her family.

So enveloped in her thoughts it was not until she felt a hand lay on her shoulder that her stinging eyes opened, finding Sister Evangelina standing in front of her.

"Come along now" the Sister said, the remainder of the Sisters filing away in silence behind her. "How about we go and sit on an easy chair? These wooden things do nothing for my back!"

Irene nodded and followed the Sister to the sitting room, finding it devoid of life. They sat.

"I sometimes find", the Sister started immediately, crossing her palms on her lap, "that as much as I believe, some days it becomes a struggle when we see suffering around us. You question, wonder why".

"I am a God-fearing woman Sister, but I _'ad_ two sons" Irene replied, voice wavering; the image of that hospital room, devoid of any comforts, still in her mind's eye. She did not know what she thought she would find when she stepped into that Hospital room but it paled against the reality of seeing her son lying there, still and absent.

"And you still have one" the Sister soothed.

"Did you _know_ I 'ad anuvver boy Sister?" Irene asked, once wanting to talk of her youngest son, a subject usually closed and too intimate to consider even within the confines of her own home and family.

"I have heard Nurse Noakes mentioned Philip yes" Sister Evangelina replied having heard brief details of what little Chummy knew of her brother in law. "And I believe that he was delivered by Nonnatus".

Irene smiled. "Yes. Sister Monica Joan. Wiv 'er loverly blonde 'air, curly over 'er face when she ran into ve room as the lad shot out like a bullet. I remembering being right green wiv envy over 'er hair when I was a youngster!"

There was an awkward pause.

"Do you know Sister, when I went in an' saw Peter 'e looked like I imagined Philip to be. I nevver saw 'im in his coffin. Bleedin' undertaker an' Billy between 'em persuaded me not to as vey said it would ruin my memories. 'e was grey an' cold an' it pains me so Sister but when I went into vat 'ospital room, I didn't see Peter vere, I saw 'is bruvver an' I nevver fought I'd see my Philip again".

"Memories sometimes come back to us" the Sister said as she saw Mrs Noakes breathe pointedly to calm herself. "Sometimes when we least expect or want them to".

"Ve last time I saw Philip 'e was sittin' on ve back of a truck. Ve pair of vem 'ad been to ve barbers an' I swear I nearly battered 'em both wivin an inch of vere lives when vey came back as vey looked like a pair of bruisers wiv vere 'eads shaved, but vey said it was what the enlistment office said vey had to do wiv vere 'air. Vere Dad fought someone was takin' ve you know what Sister tellin' em vat and vey fell for it but it was genuine what vey vere told to do".

She paused. "Here was me an' 'is Dad tellin' Camilla, only yesterday, vat we 'ad no plans to lose a second son and jus' when I saws 'im…"

Quickly she rummaged in her bag for a tissue.

"I knows as ve girls muvver" she started, Sister Evangelina really quite surprised she referred to Chummy as her own child, "I should be strong an' be finking sense but I can' bear losin' anuvver one and I do worry about Camilla. 'Ow she'll cope an' she'll be me only one left" she concluded, dabbing her eyes determined not to let anyone having seen her cry. Any words of sympathy would only set her off again. "She's got no one Sister, none of 'er family give a toss about 'er an' Billy an' me 'ave tried to be parents as much as we can to 'er these past few monfs".

"And I can tell that she is grateful. She's a strong girl, Mrs Noakes. She just doesn't realise it sometimes" the Sister noted.

"I always wanted a girl" Irene smiled. "I got my boys an' I love 'em to bits but I was prayin' for ve day Peter got married. I fink she an' I understand each uvver", she concluded, folding the handkerchief in half, the bout of tears having quickly dried.

"She needs someone to understand her" the Sister noted. How true that was. It was indeed something the Sister had felt from those first faltering days as she grew into girlfriend, fiancée, wife and mother. Someone, namely those at Nonnatus and a certain Police Officer were starting to understand the girl. "Did they say when you can go back in to see him?"

"Tomorro', but Camilla will go and Bill an' me will go in the day after if vey still insist on short visitin' again. Felt terrible tellin' her vat nuffink had changed but ven again would have felt worse tellin' her he had woke up and she wasn't vere" she shrugged.

Sister Evangelina nodded. Despite her bluster and seemingly short fuse when it came Nurse Browne (as was) and Constable Noakes, it disguised a soft spot. Mind you, she would never be telling either of them that if she could help it.

"One thing we always have is family. Or at least should have family and if not we find those who become that". The Sister knew enough about familial breakdown and lost relationships with those who are meant to be your support come thick or thin to express an opinion. "We are all family here and I can assure you that Constable Noakes, Peter, is in our prayers each and every day". She saw Irene nod, both hearing footsteps to their side as Peter's father padded across the carpet.

"I fought we could go for a walk love" Bill said quietly, easily recognizing the distress in his wife's eyes. Sister Evangelina looked up. Lord how she could see the Constable in his father; the look, the tone of voice. Everything.

,"Yes, vat's a good idea" Irene replied. "Where's Camilla?"

"She's wiv pretty little Nurse Miller upstairs. I fink she is tryin' to persuade her to come down for dinner" Bill replied, having seen the Nurse on her way upstairs.

Cynthia was indeed trying to persuade Chummy to come downstairs to join them all at the dinner table.

"Have you eaten anything today?" Cynthia had asked quietly as she help Chummy with the brief tidy up of the room that she had undertaken to distract herself.

"No" came the answer as her friend patted down the eiderdown she had just settled on her temporary bed.

"Come down", Cynthia pleaded them hearing the telephone ring downstairs, but they knew the Sister Bernadette and Sister Julienne were on call first so both left it be.

"If you don't Sister Evangelina will be up here quicker that you can think!". Desperately Cynthia tried to lighten the situation before she saw Chummy stand up straight; all too quickly.

"Yes," Chummy replied. "Must always keep sturdy and decent for Sister Evangelina!"

To their side, as they were about to get up when there was a knock on the door. Cynthia opened it to a flustered Sister Bernadette, pink of cheek and slightly out of breath having clearly sped up the stairs at some pace.

"Nurse Noakes? Telephone call for you", she breathed.

"Oh?" Chummy squeaked.

"Yes, Nurse" the Sister replied. "It's the Hospital".


End file.
